the world from here
by Smashing Successor
Summary: Hilda and Marianne celebrate their tenth anniversary and Claude gets to be the cool uncle.
1. Chapter 1

It's too early in the morning, way, waaaaay too early and yet still, someone is trying to shake her awake.

"Hilda, wake up. It's morning."

Oh, right. That someone just so happens to be her wife. Love of her life, apple of her eye... aaaaaaand perpetual early riser. Even after ten years of marriage, Hilda still can't understand morning people. Isn't it like, a sin inside the commandments of Seiros to be awake and conscious before mid-day on the weekends?

"Hiiiilda."

She rolls over, hiding her smile into the pillows at the uncommon whine in Marianne's voice. She really shouldn't tease her like this, but it's such a rare opportunity that Marianne _wants _anything so, heck, she's going to milk it for what it's worth. "Five more minutes..." she replies with a sleepy wave.

She hears a quiet huff and goddess if this isn't a test of her willpower then what is? "Fine. But I expect you to be up by then, alright?"

"Mmmm'kay..."

Ha, joke's on her, she's not going to be up then either.

The familiar noises of Marianne's daily morning preparations fill the quiet of the bedroom. Hilda turns to her side, letting the comforting sounds wash over and wrap around her like a blanket. She reeeeeally ought to get up. It's an important day. A very important day. Very... important... day...

"Hilda," and it takes a monumental effort to not jump because that's Marianne's soft voice, right next to her ear, when did she get so close? "If you don't get up within the next minute, I'll be forced to take drastic measures."

Her words are serious, but there's a teasing tone to her voice that makes Hilda crack open an eye. Her wife stares back at her, all dressed up, braid neatly in place and an exasperated smile on her lips. "You don't scare me. I've stared the zombie king of Liberation in the eyes and kicked his butt to next week, remember?" she says, calling her bluff.

Marianne lets out a little laugh. "So you have. Alright," she gets up, crossing over to the door. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Bring it on," Hilda calls out, and her wife shakes her head before disappearing out of sight.

Well, now that's that. Hilda estimates she has about, hmmmm, another good seven seconds of quiet before it's shattered.

One...

two...

three...

_**fourfivesixseven**_

There's a rapid pitter-patter of feet on the floor before the door is flung wide open and a veritable missile of chaotic energy and toddler crashes into the bedroom.

"MOM!" is all the warning Hilda gets before their daughter launches her tiny frame at her, colliding squarely with stomach and expelling all air from her lungs. All at once, a pair of small hands begins pelting her chest. "Up, up, up, get up, get up!"

"Oooof, I'm up, I'm up!" Laughing, she pushes Mia's small frame off of her and picks her up under arms, eliciting a delighted squeal from her. "You little monster, you! What have I said about running in the house, hm?"

Their daughter blinks innocently back at her, a patented look that she most definitely got from Hilda. "But Momma said you weren' getting up and that today's important and to use any means ness- nessess-uhm...necessary! Yeah!"

"Any means necessary, yes." Marianne appears in the door frame, balancing Hugo on her hip. The scolding look she gives Mia is only half-serious, ruined by the gentle half-turn of her lips. "I don't remember saying anything about letting you run in the halls now, did I?"

"Sorry," chirps Mia, very much not sorry and if she hadn't inherited Marianne's exact facial features, it would be so much easier to discipline her but as Lorenz likes to say, alas and alack. Seriously, their daughter could probably get away with murder in the future, and Hilda would be the first one in line to help to bury the body. Thank goddess Marianne's at least partially immune to it. "Are getting you up now, Mom?"

"Hmm," Hilda pretends to think about. "I'm feeling awake, but I dunno, the bed is just so comfy. Let me ask your brother first, and if he agrees, then I'll get up, okay?"

"Okay!" agrees Mia without a second thought. Why wouldn't she? The logic is foolproof. "What do you think, Hugo?"

Marianne doesn't roll her eyes. To do so would be improper, not to mention rude. So she has to settle for shaking her head in fond exasperation again as she hands their son over to Hilda, who immediately begins making cooing noises at their one-year-old son. "Hugo, please tell mom to get up and get ready," she says, only half-serious. "Today is a very important day after all."

Hugo blinks up at them for a few seconds before his mouth splits open in a gummy smile. "Ama maa!"

Hilda, well, she just... melts. "Awww, that's good enough for me!" and smothers her little ball of sunshine with kisses, cueing another round of giggles. Gosh, her children are just. The. _**CUTEST**_. Which is something every parent has probably said in their lives but they're wrong. It's a proven fact that, her children? Absolute. _**CUTEST**_.

"Mom, mom, me too!" Mia holds up her arms, pouting for being left out and Hilda obliges with more kisses. "And don't forget Momma!"

Hilda simpers. Ahhhh, she's too young for heart attacks, but at the rate she's going, she's going to have her first right now in their bedroom, surrounded by her adorable children and equally adorable wife. "Of course, of course!" She holds out her arms, mimicking Mia's pout. "Get over here, Mari."

"You're incorrigible," says Marianne, the smile on her lips impossibly affectionate as she leans in.

"Yeah? And you're beautiful." She says, smiling into the kiss as Marianne's cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink. Still got it, even after a decade, aw yeah!

When they finally break apart, the sweet little half-smile Marianne gives her makes all those early mornings worth it.

"Happy anniversary, Hilda."

And Hilda beams back at her.

"Happy anniversary, Marianne!"

* * *

After a light breakfast, they bundle up into their carriage and set off towards a destination only Hilda knows. Hugo begins to whimper and fuss as soon as the horses start moving, but a soft lullaby from Marianne has him calming down within seconds. Mia, on the other hand, spends most of the ride with her face pressed up to the glass window, trying to guess where they're headed and Hilda catches Marianne peeking out too, curiosity getting the better of her. When she catches Hilda's eye, she flushes and turns back to fussing over their son.

Hilda turns away to hide her smirk. This year, it's her turn to plan their anniversary, and even though Marianne says it's not a competition, it _kinda_ is a competition. Last year they had their hands full with Hugo, but even still, Marianne had still managed to find the time to take her on an exhilarating pegasus ride, followed by a lovely dinner at Hilda's favorite restaurant in town. Now it's Hilda's turn, and she's pulling out all the stops, no holds barred. Only the best for her wife!

"Mom, where are we goin'?"

Hilda turns to face Mia, who's finally unstuck herself from the window. "Hmm, well, I can give you a hint," she says, and Mia nods eagerly. "What's your favorite thing in the whole wide world?"

"Momma," Mia answers immediately and well, dang, kinda walked right into that one. In the seat across from hers, Marianne straightens, having the modesty to look only a teensy bit smug.

"Oooookay, not quite but... what's your second favorite thing in the whole wide world?"

"Mom."

She is definitely being played by her own kid right now, unbelievable. Marianne is looking away, hiding her laughter in the crook of her sleeve.

"Alright, third favorite thing."

"Hugo."

"Cake, it's cake, for cryin' out loud!" Hilda throws up her hands. "We're going to the cakeshop! Honestly, how is cake not at the top of your list? You're five!"

"Oh yeah, cake! I like cake!" Mia throws her tiny arms around her neck. "Thank you, mom!"

Yep, definitely being played. And Hilda could honestly care less. "You're welcome, sweetie," she says, hugging her precious cinnamon roll back... aaaaaaand now Marianne's looking smug again. Hilda sticks out her tongue, and for some reason, that just serves to amuse her even more.

The carriage rolls to a stop and a few seconds later, there's a knock on the door. Mia peers out the window and her eyes widen, and she shoves the door open with her shoulder.

"Uncle Claude!"

"Whoa there!" With practiced ease, the leader of the Alliance plucks their daughter out of her air mid-leap, pirouetting twice with the momentum before setting her down. "Easy, kiddo, easy!" He says, a warm smile on his lips as he ruffles her hair, much to her delight. "How's my favorite short stack in the world doing? Oh and hey Hilda, Marianne."

The lazy wave he gives them could give Hilda a run for her money and she'd still have enough to buy chopped liver with the change. "Yeah, yeah, hey to you too your royal Majesty, breaker of Fodlan's walls, wyvern flipper, etc, etc."

"It's good to see you too, Claude." Marianne comes up next to her, carrying Hugo on her hip. _Play nice_, is the look she aims at her.

Claude places a hand over his heart, the other one firmly locked in a death grip by Mia. "Awww, thanks, Marianne. I always knew there was a reason I liked you better!"

"Is it because you always copied her answers during tests?" asks the Professor, appearing like a ghost out of nowhere, surprising everyone. "Hello, Hilda. Marianne." She gives them a short nod and small smile, which in the Professor's case, she might as well be grinning from ear-to-ear. "Happy anniversary."

"Awww, thanks Prof- I mean, Byleth." Even after all these years, calling their former teacher anything other than the Professor is still very much strange. It doesn't help that she once told them in passing, with a completely deadpan expression, that legally, her full name was The Professor Byleth. To this day, Hilda still doesn't know if she was joking or not.

Thankfully, Mia doesn't share her problem. "Auntie By," she tugs on Byleth's ridiculous coat sleeves. "Are we going cake shopping? Can I pick the flavor?"

"You may, but only if you think your mothers would enjoy it too. We have to select one that everyone will like, after all."

"And you know what that means?" Claude says with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes as he hefts Mia onto his shoulders. "We have to sample every, last, one of them!"

Letting a five-year-old taste test every cake in the shop, oooooh boy that's a great idea. Suddenly, Hilda is very thankful that today is their anniversary just so that she doesn't have to deal with the sugar fallout afterward. She loves her children to death, really, but after a sugar rush, Mia is legally Marianne's child for two, three hours because only Marianne's infinite patience can coax down their daughter from the sugar high.

"Don't worry," says Byleth, accepting Hugo from Marianne, as her husband, leader of the Alliance and the unified world, charges into the cake shop like... well, a kid in a cake shop, their daughter laughing in tow. "I'll make sure to keep an eye on them."

"Goddess bless you." Marianne breathes out a sigh of relief. Hugo immediately begins whining when he leaves his mother's arms, but calms when Marianne brushes at his little pink tufts of hair. "Thank you again for looking after Mia and Hugo at such short notice."

"It's no problem," says Byleth as she puts on her best reassuring smile for Hugo. He squirms briefly for a second in her arms, which is already a huge improvement compared to last time, where he just burst into inconsolable tears as soon as Hilda handed him over. Judging by how pleased the Professor's expression is, she thinks so too. "Besides, Claude looks for every excuse he can to flaunt the best uncle card whenever Lorenz is in town."

Hilda huffs. "Of course he does. That reminds me. Try to keep Claude from going overboard with the presents. Or at the very least, do NOT let Mia do the puppy eyes to him."

"We're running out of room in our stables for all the pets he buys her," says Marianne.

"What goes around, comes around," says Byleth, looking pointedly at Hilda and yeah, okay, maybe karma does have her there, but it's not all her fault, alright? Mia is as much Marianne's kid as her's. "Don't worry. I'll keep Claude in check. You two just worry about Lorenz bequeathing a portion of the Great Bridge of Myrrdin to her as part of her inheritance in retaliation."

Hilda laughs and Marianne chuckles, but they both quickly stop when the Professor remains stone-faced. "This is the part where you say sike, right? Right? Please say sike."

"What goes around, comes around."

* * *

They end up leaving the cake shop an hour later because Claude doesn't know the meaning of the words impulse control, and their first sample? Somehow it turns into a three-tiered tres-leches/red velvet/cheesecake that he purchases on the spot for Mia after she takes one bite and declares it "Yummy!"

"Just pack the rest home for leftovers, it'll keep! Well, whaddya mean it won't fit in the carriage? I can just have my personal battalion deliver it to your place later. C'mon, they're my personal wyvern guards, I can tell them to do whatever I want, I pay their salaries. Yes, okay fine, for you Marinanne, I'll add a tip for them, sheesh. It's just cake! You guys act like I signed over half of the Alliance states to her for her birthday- kidding, _**KIDDING**_. I was kidding, Hilda put down the cake knife- Teach, Byleth, honey, I'm being bullied please help."

* * *

_**A/N: Mia and Hugo are the creations of eisorus and I would die for them. Go thank them for the food.**_


	2. Chapter 2

A day wandering around Derdriu may not be the most original date in the book, but that's okay. Hilda's aiming for best tenth anniversary ever in the history of anniversaries, not the most original one, and besides, being unique is soooooo much extra work, so why bother? Sticking to the tried and true, now that's convenience she can get behind!

"Is that... a gondola?"

Marianne adjusts her absurdly large sun hat as she stares with unabashed curiosity at the small wooden boat floating in the canal. Now that Mia and Hugo are squared away, they've got the rest of the day to themselves, and Hilda plans on making the most of it, starting with a romantic cruise in the scenic waterways of the capital with her absolutely angelic wife, oooooh, she can hardly wait!

Sometimes, she surprises herself with her own brilliance.

"I've never been on one," says Marianne, the beginning traces of enthusiasm in her voice and heck yeah, that's a point for being unoriginal.

"I know! And when you told me that, I just knew what we had to do for our anniversary." Hilda hops into the gondola, making sure everything is in tip-top shape. "All those times you came to Derdriu for your father on business trips, and I still can't believe you never once rode the waterways. Not even to just get around!" She pauses in her inspection long enough to pout disapprovingly at her. "As a citizen of the Alliance, that's a crime, just so you know."

"To be fair, I didn't have anyone to ride them with until you came along," says Marianne with a small, precious smile directed towards her and Hilda feels her heart skip a beat and- ooooh, that's so not fair!

But then Marianne leans over and pecks her on the cheek and okay, fine, maybe Hilda can let it go, just this once.

"You're such a sweet talker, Mari. Tempting me like that, why, what would the goddess think?" Hilda says with a wink, grinning when Marianne flushes and tries to sputter out a protest. She picks up the oar and reaches out a hand to help her in. "Just so you know, you can't say stuff like that when I'm rowing, or I'm liable to accidentally crash us into a building."

Marianne pauses, one foot in the gondola. "O-oh. You'll be rowing?"

"Of course!" With practiced ease, she unmoors the gondola from the dock and casts off. It takes a few seconds to find her sea legs, but once she does, she settles into a familiar rhythm of rowing. "Sure, it's a lotta- oof, work! But I'm not going to let some scalper try and take us to all the tourist traps. Besides, I know these canals like the back of my hand thanks to all the vacations our family took here!" She dips the oar down and pushes. Oof, that's tougher than she remembers. She's not going soft, is she? That would _suck_. "Why do you ask?"

Marianne says nothing, but her eyes dart briefly to Hilda's arms before she quickly looks away and- oh. _Ohhhhhhhh._ So that's how it is!

Suddenly, not hiring a gondolier to ferry them around the capital is looking like one of the best decisions she's ever made.

Hilda makes sure to take an extra hard stroke with the oar, pushing forward with a flex and she's rewarded by her wife's cheeks going from cotton candy pink to crisp tomato red in seconds flat.

"See something you like?" she asks, and this time, her wink is more satisfied than playful, but she deserves it because ten years of peace and downtime, and she's worried if she's gone soft? Pft, as if!

"You are incorrigible," says her wife, but she's laughing with a mix of embarrassment and fondness that makes her eyes crinkle at the corners and that face alone makes it all worth it.

"And you're still beautiful, c'mon Mari, keep up!"

* * *

They first stop by a baker selling fresh sweet rolls out of a window above the canal. Marianne's particularly charmed by the novelty of how they can just step off their boat, place their order, and then hop right back in. The excited way she smiles as she accepts the basket of sweet rolls that the baker lowers into their gondola is enough to make Hilda consider buying out the whole shop just so she can see her wife light up like that all the time.

But then she'd have to manage both a bakery and a burgeoning artisan school, so nah.

The better half of an hour is spent floating lazily down the canals, munching on delicious scones and sneaking in as many kisses she can while Marianne's distracted by all the sights and sounds of, in Hilda's unbiased opinion, the most beautiful city in all of Fodlan. To her, it's nothing really new, but Marianne's unfiltered enthusiasm to just about everything makes it all feel fresh again.

Plus, surprise kisses. Best kisses, hands down.

This early in the spring season, there are only a few other gondola's out on the waterways, with most of the passengers being couples like them. One gondola passes close to where they're anchored, and the gondolier pauses briefly in his serenade to tip his hat to them before continuing onward with his passengers.

Hilda stares at them a bit wistfully as they sail off into the distance. The gondolier's voice isn't particularly good, but it's strong and carries across the waterways. She could totally do a better job though, what with all the choir practice Byleth drilled into her, coupled with the fact that her voice is just naturally _fantastic_.

Actually...

"Don't," says Marianne softly, reading her mind as she puts down her half-eaten scone.

"I really think I should, Mari."

"Hilda Valentine Edmund, I promise to the goddess, that if you start singing, right now, in front of all these people, I... I'll-"

"_I'll turn to yoooou_!" Hilda leaps up with a grin and a wink, pushing forward with the oar as Marianne hides her face behind the brim of her sun hat. Only the tips of her fingers are visible, but even those are turning pink. "_Like a red rose, seeking the sun_!" she pauses, gathering her breath, "_no matter where it goooo-__**mmph**__**!**_"

That's as far as she gets into the crescendo before Marianne decides the best way to shut her up is to kiss her, right then and there, on the lips.

Best. Anniversary. _Ever_.

...Except then Hilda overbalances and trips over the oar and oh, would ya look at that, now she's kissing air and diving face-first into the canal.

Whoops.

* * *

It still turns out to be the best anniversary ever, because once they fish her out of the water and she dries off, Marianne agrees to reluctantly sing along with her.

"You know I can't sing very loud."

But that's okay, because when Marianne really gets into it, she forgets how to be shy and Hilda can let her own voice fade and just watch her wife trail her fingers in the water and sing in that same soft voice of hers that she uses to lull Hugo to sleep and Hilda's falling for her even harder, and everything is just— it's perfect.

"H-Hilda, you have to sing too."

"Five more minutes, just five more minutes, Mari!"

* * *

It's only near the end of the day, with the sun turning a pale red and making her wife's complexion light up like a star, does Hilda remember the anniversary gift in her pouch. The anniversary gift she was supposed to give at the beginning of the date, the one she's been carrying around all day like a fool...

The one that maaaaay or may not be _entirely _waterproof, now that she thinks about it...

"Oh shoot, hang on a sec!" Hilda drops the oar and immediately reaches into the pouch. Lysithea had assured her that the enchantment she placed on it would make it sturdier but... oh thank Seiros, still in one piece. Thank you, goddess above and genius mage prodigies below.

"Is something wrong?" Marianne peers over her shoulder, stopping mid-lyric in her song, concern etched on her brow, before she sees what's in her hands and- "Oh! Oh my!"

Ah dang it, there goes any element of surprise. Oh well, now's a good time as any. "Ta-da!" Hilda turns around, presenting the gift out with her hands. "Happy anniversary, Marianne!"

Slowly, Marianne reaches out and picks up the glass chrysanthemum, her every movement careful and impossibly gentle. Amazement is written all over her face, mixed in with something soft and so very fragile. "Oh, _Hilda..._" and the way she breathes out her name makes Hilda want to smile, laugh and tear up, all at the same time. "It's... it's _beautiful_. I don't... how did you make this?"

"Not really sure myself," Hilda answers with a chuckle that's not exactly wry. Sure, she may be a master crafter, the best Fodlan has ever seen, but creating something as intricate and detailed as a glass flower falls under the category of _attempt at your own risk_. Glass flowers that are also chrysanthemum's and Marianne's birth flower? Those are in their own category of _absolute nightmare why are there so many petals in this flower why does nature hate me like this I'm going blind oh gods I am so totally not going to make it in time for our anniversary__** yes you are you'll finish this if it's the last thing you do so help meeeeeeeeee!**_

Sure, it was work. Backbreaking, painstakingly precise work, the kind that she tries to avoid or foist off to someone else entirely. But watching Marianne struggle to hold back tears as she cradles the flower close to her heart, well, in the end...

It's _**so**_ worth it.

Hilda takes the flower and tucks it into Marianne's braid. "It's glass, but I had Lysithea give it a little magic so as long as you don't let a wyvern step on it, you should be good- oh, Mari..." she stops mid-sentence to gently wipe at the corner of Marianne's eyes, fingers trailing against her cheek. "Please don't cry. You know if you get started, I'll just have to join in with you. That's how it works, you know that."

Marianne lets out a watery sort of chuckle, even as the tears continue to fall. "I-I'm sorry, I-I just... I-I'm just... just so happy a-and..." her wife wipes at her eyes with her wrist and chuckles again. "G-goddess, look at me. Y-you must think I'm being so silly."

"Maybe." Hilda abandons the oar and scooches closer, picking up her wife's hands. "But, hey, wouldn'tcha know, I love you when you're being silly too.

She's not sure if those are the right words because Marianne starts to cry even harder. "I just... I-I..." she takes a shaky breath. "S-sometimes I w-wake up in the morning, a-and I wonder if all this is just a... a dream. You and Mia and Hugo and... everything." The hand in her's squeezes tight. "I wake up and wonder what I did to deserve to be this happy and loved and cherished and... and..."

"And stop," says Hilda, because those kinds of thoughts, those what-ifs, she's not going to let Marianne entertain, not _ever, _so long as she's around. She leans in close, close enough that she can see the tears threatening to fall from Marianne's lashes. "Never ask that, if you ever deserve to be happy, Mari. Because you know what? You do. You absolutely, positively deserve to be happy, and you wanna know why?"

"Because you make me happy too," she whispers fiercely, placing their interlocked hands over her own heart. "Because every single memory we've made along the way is a treasure. Because every day with you is a chance to fall a little more in love and I wouldn't trade that chance away for anything, not even the world."

She presses their foreheads together, wishing at that moment to just exist in the same space and warmth with Marianne because the words alone aren't enough- they're never enough to say what she wants to say in her heart. But for Marianne, she'll always try her best, always.

"I love you, Marianne. Always and forever," she says and she means it as both a promise and a vow to the very end of time.

"So ask yourself again. Do you think you deserve to be happy?"

Marianne's crying even harder now, but there's something so incredibly soft and loving in her expression that it makes the tears falling down her cheeks dazzling and sparkling and a billion other emotions that Hilda can't describe, not without her own heart bursting.

"If it's with you..." she murmurs, crossing the distance between their lips and they're warm, so warm that it feels like the sun is in her chest right now, burning its way straight into her heart.

"Always and forever."


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Do your civic duty soldier. Follow eisorus on Twitter. And me if you wanna, I guess at F2P_BTW**_

* * *

"So don't be mad," are the first words out of Claude's mouth.

Marianne gives him a quick glance over. The state he's in, it's hard not to feel anything but sorry for him. There are dirt stains scattered all over his pants, particularly on his knees, one of his gloves is missing, and his usually well-kept hair is in complete disarray. Yet somehow, he looks strangely satisfied, like he's won the White Heron Cup all over again. A little to his left, their former Professor is sporting a similar look and matching expression, even as Hugo continues to bawl his poor little eyes out in her arms. And in the between the two is their Mia, looking as innocent and wide-eyed as she possibly can.

Oh dear. That's never a good sign.

Hilda narrows her eyes. "You got her another pony, didn't you?"

"Psh, what, no!" Claude scoffs, placing a hand on Mia's shoulder, who's innocent look somehow intensifies tenfold. "I got YOU and Marianne another pony to give to your daughter when you feel she's earned the responsibility to look after a six- FIFTH pony."

"You got her two?!" Hilda looks ready to have a conniption.

Marianne reaches over and puts a calming hand on the nape of Hilda's neck. "Claude..." she says with a small frown, and for a second, the leader of the Alliance and the free world looks suitably chastised. He's actually _pouting_. Perhaps he's picking up cues from Mia. "We specifically said, no more pets."

"Yes, and they're both very sorry about that, right?" Byleth adds, somehow still sounding serious even as Hugo pulls at her hair and forces her head to an awkward angle. "Both very sorry for breaking their word and for going behind my back while I was busy with Hugo. Right?"

"Sorry," says Mia, looking patently downtrodden

"Very sorry," says Claude, mimicking his niece's expression, looking patently ridiculous.

From the dangerous way Hilda's lip is wobbling, Marianne can sense that her wife is one more apology away from letting Claude and their daughter getting away scot-free, which would be problematic because as much as she adores their pets, (four ponies, two dogs, a litter of kittens and a raccoon, of all things) they _really _are running out of room at their estate, so it falls on her to be the voice of reason.

"Mia, honey," she says, and Mia perks up. "Why don't you show your mom what Uncle Claude got for you and from there, your mom and I can make a decision, okay?"

"Okay!" goes their daughter, brightening instantly as she grabs Hilda's hand and begins dragging her away, chattering a mile a minute. "Their names are Muffins and Mr. Sprinkles and I love them and especially Mr. Sprinkles because he has these brown and black spots all over him but Uncle Claude said he should be Mr. Calico then but I like my name more because it sounds so much cuter so I said no and then Auntie By found us and-"

Oh dear. Marianne peers worriedly after them. Perhaps sending Hilda alone was a mistake, judging by the doting look on her face. The one that says,_ "I forgive you for all past, present and future transgressions because I love you very much and can't see the forest for the trees because I cut them all down for you."_

"Thank you for that," Claude sidles up to her, breathing out a sigh of relief. "I don't wanna say Hilda's gonna flip when she sees Mr. Sprinkles... but she's probably gonna flip."

Ah. Well, that's vaguely... worrying. "What do you mean by that?" she asks, taking Hugo from Byleth's arms and placing him in the crook of her neck. As soon as he's back in her arms, his bawling turns into small whimpers, and it takes a monumental effort not to giggle at the slight pout that graces their former Professor's face.

So Claude's not picking up the habit from Mia then. Somehow, it seems fitting.

Claude coughs into his hand. "Let's just say that Mr. Sprinkles isn't exactly... a pony, so to speak." He coughs again. "What I'm saying is, it'll be up to you to calm down the pink hurricane that is your wife once she finds out lat- ow, Teach!"

"What my husband _means_ to say," Byleth lowers the hand she used to poke him with, giving him a pointed look that still somehow comes off as affectionate, "is that you've got a wonderful wife and family and have nothing to worry about."

That second part... doesn't ring especially true, notably with the way Claude furiously shakes his head at her when Byleth turns away. But... Marianne supposes it's the thought that counts.

"Thank you," she says, and that she means with every fiber of her being. "I'm blessed to have them. But if you ask Hilda," she says with a smile, lifting Hugo up to her face. He blinks owlishly for a second before breaking out in another gummy smile that melts Marianne's heart into a little puddle of warmth.

"She'd probably say it's what we deserve."

A rare look of surprise flits across Byleth's face, but only for a moment, before it turns into the broadest smile Marianne's ever seen grace their former teacher's face.

"She's right," is all she says and Marianne cannot cry, she mustn't, not when she's already shed enough happy tears today to last a lifetime. But it's hard, so very hard, what with the Professor smiling at her so proudly, Claude laughing in his natural way as he dangles out his fingers for Hugo to play with and the joyful giggles that reach her ears.

It's hard. But it's perfect too, and it's what they deserve. This entire moment in time to last always, and forever.

…

Until the moment is shattered by the outraged shriek of her wife's voice in the distance, followed by the delighted squeals of Mia and an absolutely deafening roar that shakes the ground they're standing on.

"CLAUDE VON RIEGAN ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU GOT MY BABY GIRL A PET _**WYVERN?!**_"

Oh. Well...

_Mostly _perfect.


End file.
